


Affinity

by Samwiches



Series: Arena for the Dead [3]
Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/Zero, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, Fate/stay night (Visual Novel), Fate/stay night - All Media Types, Fate/stay night: Heaven's Feel (Anime 2017)
Genre: Affection, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, First Love, First Time, Foreplay, Gentle Sex, Innocence, Intimacy, Loss of Virginity, Love Confessions, Master/Servant, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Romance, Sex, Softcore Porn, Tender Sex, Vaginal Sex, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:41:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29686884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samwiches/pseuds/Samwiches
Summary: Romance had always come at a high cost. So how probable was it that Diarmuid would attain love despite how taxing on his spirit it would be? Highly, as being with this woman had proved to be worth enduring it all.
Relationships: Diarmuid Ua Duibhne | Lancer & Original Character(s), Diarmuid Ua Duibhne | Lancer/Original Character(s), Diarmuid Ua Duibhne | Lancer/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Arena for the Dead [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1899334
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Affinity

**Author's Note:**

> This is chapter 56 from my Fic, "Arena for the Dead" but it works well as a stand alone. The main difference is that Diarmuid's body is that of the Underworld. So he looks like his Servant self, but there are some modifications that don't effect the read. :) I wanted to share this with those may not be interested in the entire fic, but would love a romantically tender romance scene. 
> 
> This scene was meant to be impactful for the two characters involved. They had journeyed through perilous event after another desperately trying to save the other. So when a certain occasion almost destroys them—one character's words impower the other to keep moving forward. And thus, this scene ensues.
> 
> Enjoy!

Haley’s words—kind and gentle as ever, just like her lovely self—slammed into Diarmuid like a juggernaut. Everything she said resonated with devotion and truth; learning that her compassion for him reached as far back as her youth almost made him stagger, such was the emotional impact it had upon him. To be seen as a beacon of hope… as a shining example of morality and goodness, when her life had so often been a morass of sorrow and bleakness… her avid adoration of his unworthy self finally made more sense. 

He gripped the dog-tag at the end of the silver necklace at his sternum. He was her Hero, and she was going to remain with him despite the odds. Fate seemed to have entangled their threads to bring them together, and he couldn’t be any happier. “Lady Haley, you never cease… to amaze me. Thank you, truly.”

Diarmuid cupped her warm, delicate cheeks. The world vanished when their lips met; hers were so soft, and welcoming. The tip of his tongue brushed against her lovely lower lip. Her mouth parted, granting him access to a deeper osculation. Her hands clutched at his back, bringing him closer until their bodies touched. Her natural heat spread along his own cold skin, igniting a more desperate fire in their tangled mouths. 

The pads of his fingertips eagerly kneaded the curves of her figure while they hungrily (but slowly) kissed each other. Time was invaluable in this moment, with their lips locked and his heart captured. His other hand slipped under the folds of her jacket, moving the fabric over her shoulder. The jacket toppled over, dangling at her back to expose the silk fabric of her cyanic night-robe; Haley hurriedly wriggled out of the coat, leaving the garment to crumple on the floor of the terrace. 

He left her breathless when they drifted apart. Still lingering over the taste of her Knight, Haley lifted her gaze to Diarmuid’s honey orbs. They appeared golden as they glistened in the night's sheltering light. They were so inviting, tempting—like her favorite treat.

"Caramel…" she said quietly.

Diarmuid cocked his head. His hands—oh, his hands!—drifted down her sides and landed on her hips, tugging her closer. "What?" he asked, eyebrows furrowing while he dipped to give her appreciative smooches, scattering them across the bare skin of her shoulder. 

Those kisses melted her skin everywhere they landed. Haley found herself reluctantly tilting back her head in response, exposing—nay, awkwardly  _ inviting _ —him to sample the tender flesh of her vulnerable throat. "Mmm… your eyes… I used to think they were sweet as honey… but no, they're rich like caramel." Her voice emerged huskily, as she bit back a moan. The man was incredibly talented with his mouth, leaving her unsure of exactly she should be doing in response. 

The Knight accepted her invitation, moving to suckle the crease of her neck. "What is caramel?" he purred into her velvety skin, thinking it must be something from beyond his time. 

"You don't know what caramel is!?” Haley dramatically pulled away from his blinking features. “Oh you poor, deprived thing! We have to rectify that.” 

Diarmuid chuckled, the sound resembling a low rumble from his chest. “Of all things to discuss right now…” he shook his head, his smile widening. “I swear,  _ you  _ are the  _ sweetest  _ thing I’ve ever known.” 

“I say what’s on my mind,” Haley shrugged. She licked her lip, shifting her hands from the gleaming man’s back (never letting her palms leave his body) to his midriff. She twined her fingers into the bottom of his t-shirt. “May I…?” 

“You need never ask permission to touch me; I am your Knight in any and every which way you desire.” His muscled arms raised, while his Lady lifted the shirt to his head. The two shared jovial laughter when it snagged in his brushed-back locks, causing Haley to struggle to fully remove the garb. Naturally he helped her, wiggling out of the fabric and allowing it join his jacket on the floor. 

Not skipping a beat, Diarmuid couldn’t resist locking together their faces again. His hands threaded into the thickness of her auburn hair, careful to evade her injury. His heart was captivated by how she delicately brushed over each blemish from his past. He succumbed to her roaming, his breath catching delightfully in his chest. The way she tenderly explored him left him utterly vulnerable to her touch; he cherished the feeling.

When she relinquished their French kiss, part of him wanted to reel her back in. He wondered if she saw him as he did her in this moment: wholly desirable. But her fingers halted on his sternum, and her eyes glistened with silver as she dropped her forehead to where her hand once lay. "It never… should have happened…" she breathed, pressing her lips to the phantom hole that had once been there. 

Her sorrow resonated deep within Diarmuid, as she held her kiss at the surface of the old wound once had been. He thumbed her chin, shifting her to look upon him. "We survived, that's all that matters."

“Did we…?” A light whisper, her heated breath tickling his skin. 

He gently brushed his knuckles underneath her bangs, the strands slipping over his hand as he cupped and thumbed her cheekbone admiring her exquisite features. “We did… and my Lady, we will always survive it. It… is what we do, after all.” 

_ It’s what we do _ … Haley leaned into his palm, expelling a contented sigh through her nostrils. Diarmuid was right. This tournament had definitely dragged them through one perilous encounter after another, and they’d always persisted, even if they were left broken and battered afterward. Though so long as they had each other to mend those wounds…

_ Love… _ each other. “Diar…” After sparing a kiss to his wrist, her other hand skimmed his bare back as she peered up at him. His marvelously handsome face offered her the most compassionate of smiles. “I…” Why the words caught in her throat, she didn’t know; instead she said with as much heart as she could muster, “I can’t… imagine life without you… which is why it hurts too much seeing anything happen to you. You’re more than just my hero…” she dotingly fondled the jewelry he’d refused to take off. “You’re my  _ everything. _ ”

If the world were on its last legs, Diarmuid wouldn’t know. Time had just frozen over in the intricately beautiful scene that his lovely lady had created. He’d instantly forgotten all their turmoil, all the issues they’d eventually have to face, lost as he was to the beautiful woman before him. He wasn’t sure when—or how—his hands ended up on either side of her pinkened cheeks, or when his mouth found hers once more. 

All he knew was that he desired her more now than anything else. He was never perfect with his words, but each movement of their lips together spoke every promise he could make. His hands mapped her voluptuous figure, expressing every dream she had made real. 

Steadily, he expanded his exploration, tucking his fingers underneath the slit in her negligee that came together at chest height. He worked his fingertips lightly over her skin, favoring the subtle gasp she let slip. When she didn’t flinch nor protest how close he’d come to her undergarments, he found himself fiddling underneath the knitting and plucking at her barely perceptible buds. 

Haley pulled away ever so slightly then, using the pause to return his favor and nip down his pectorals. Feeling a little frisky, she nabbed the threading of her robe and undid the tie to reveal herself, but didn’t completely remove the garb. Her eyes found his: they sparkled with admiration and what she could only deduce was pure adoration of her. For someone to look at her with such deep infatuation, it was beyond her wildest imagination.

He hadn’t stopped his intimate perusal as he’d rolled the pads of his fingers over her nipples, but he’d leaned close, his breath catching her ear as he’d murmured, “You are wonderful, beautiful.” He released her hardened peaks, gliding to her back and unsnapping the hooks: the brassiere was tossed to the side, leaving her gloriously bare before him. “And you’re everything I needed to become whole again.” 

Haley’s response hitched in her throat, her mouth wobbling slightly. Just hearing him solidify their connection was enough to rattle her senses. It was a miracle she wasn’t shedding the happiest tears of her life, especially when Diarmuid tightened his grip around her and tugged her in close. 

“Come…” she whispered, curling her fingers into his and guiding them towards the massive bed. He fell in step behind her. When she found herself at the edge of the mattress she laid back, slack against the sheets, her index finger tracing his scars. It was clear in her mind what she wanted, and she would do her best to express it, despite how anxious she was about it.

Diarmuid climbed onto their bed, his arms at either side of her; his grand figure hovered over the slender woman’s frame. He inspected every inch that was laid bare where the night-robe allowed: the roundness of her breasts, the hardened nubs that begged for his attention… her sleek legs beckoned to him, shining like pale marble through the crease of her gown. Every inch of her body needed to (and would soon) know how much he adored it… Adored  _ her.  _

In truth, what had always mesmerized him were her magnificent crystal-blue eyes that shone bright in contrast to her robe—eyes that ever regarded him with such affection and attachment. The stupid charm spell always overtook the women he’d previously been with. Even in his tryst with the Loathly Lady—the very story this woman revered—she had fallen for the spot. This—this courtship was  _ different _ .

His Lady had never been influenced by the magic. Diarmuid could not be any more grateful that she cared for him, sacrificed for him, and was devoted to him, for  _ who he was _ , entirely. It was her choice—and hers alone—to have her heart flutter for his own; it was her decision to wish to be with him in all the ways they had, and in this instance now. He had to show her—he had to  _ give  _ her everything her little heart desired, to show how much he respected and returned those same feelings. 

So he bent, tasting her mouth once more, inhaling her vanilla scent, combing through her lustrous hair, before dipping to her jaw with a gentle kiss. With feather-like delicacy, her fingertips traced the groove of his spine so tenderly,  _ sensuously _ —it was nothing short of electric and left him elated. Her labored breaths merely edged him further down her body, worshipping her with his mouth, all the way to her neglected, rosy perks.

Haley's fingers trembled as they enveloped this beautiful Soul, tracing each corded muscle, reveling at his warrior’s body. Her Knight was perfect in every way. He was rigid in all the right places, sweet wherever he skimmed along her aching body, taking special care and always casting checking glances her way. Every sweep of his tongue along her breasts, her bruises, did nothing but ignite a satisfying urge deep within her core.

He redirected his mouth upward, into the bend of her neck where it met her shoulder, and sucked lightly on her skin. The titillation was incredible to her demeanor as she raked her hands through his dark, raven hair. 

Diarmuid relaxed his body on top of hers, his growing need to fulfill himself with a deeper intimacy straining his pants. Of course—just as always—he’d ensure everything he did was accepted by the woman beneath him. He listened intently to her muffled whines for any indication of discontent, minding her body’s cues of pleasure or hesitance. 

Though with each passing second he libidinously traversed her body, he seemed to meet no reluctance. He wryly admitted to himself that it did his masculine ego no harm to know that he was accepted so readily by his woman, particularly given her lack of experience in bed—and the harsh reality that what little she did know of concupiscence, was uniformly terrifying and abusive.

He had earned her trust in the matter of time they’d spent together, resulting in him openly treasuring every aspect of her. He felt that he was the wealthiest man of all, as his Lady was a diamond in his eyes, and even then, worth that much more.

Diarmuid eagerly flicked her left nipple with his tongue before enveloping the whole of her rosy areolae into his hot mouth. His left hand steadied his balance, as his right fondled her other petite breast, the malleable flesh sending his desire whirling ever higher. The Irishman unconsciously rutted against her mound, hoping she was as enticed as he felt. As if she heard his thoughts, Haley uttered the cutest little observation in a muffled voice.

“Oh… your… thing… I can feel it…” 

“Yes… I’m being terribly honest with how much you excite me…” He gazed into those lustrous pools of cerulean and trailed the back of his finger down her front, stopping just above her pubic triangle. While it may not seem so, a thought had occurred and he instantly worried his approach was too brazen. This was only their second time being so… debauched, and she had been burdened in this manner once before... “Is… this too forward for you? If you are uncomfortable—”

Haley shook her head vigorously, “N-No…! ‘Course not…” She hooked her arms behind his neck, pulling his weight against her and raising her hips to meet his. The reflexive shudder they simultaneously shared, coupled with Diarmuid’s light inhalation, was enough to rattle her. “I like it… I think.” 

His grin turned nearly devilish, as the Irishman marveled at her exposed thigh with the flats of his hands as far as their position would grant him, while also not diverting from their closeness. “Hmm… that’s not quite convincing, my Lady.” He offered her a playful wink as her skin bumped with gooseflesh.

Squirming beneath him, she reached up to knead the back of his neck, her untutored but ardent fingers causing him to practically purr in response. The draft from the open balcony doors kissed her skin when he finally removed the nightie. The rough edges of his warrior’s calluses brushed upon her flanks and made her nerves sing a wonderful song. Haley knew he was teasing, but she wanted to express her reciprocation or convince him that she was committed to all he had to offer. 

If only she knew how. “I… don’t know how to express it.” 

Adorably innocent. If Diarmuid could blush, his face would be redder than roses at her pureness. “However you like, if not at all, just—” he kissed the wrinkles in her forehead, “Be you, love.” 

The gentleness in his voice made Haley’s heart kick up a breath-taking notch. She felt undeserving… though utterly at peace. She had thought she’d be embarrassed by her lack of proper expression, but having her Knight’s approval despite it all gave her more than an ounce of confidence. Simply hearing him call her ‘love’ unlocked a level of emotion Haley had not realized dwelt within; the buoyant, joyous butterflies caused by his sincere affection grew tenfold with his tender endearment.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, the woman braved a more personal approach. Diarmuid had bequeathed her his gentle and stimulating caresses, but she was yet to reciprocate with the same degree of passion and commitment. The Psychic swept the stray lock from his nose and curled it behind his ear. “Okay…” she muttered, dragging her hands down his rugged sides ever so delicately.

She found the hemline of his pants; he returned her exploration by kissing her shoulder just beneath her chin as he nestled the fullness of his lips into the crook of her neck. Her body jostled from the electrifying sensation, a building heat in places she blanched from thinking about. Tiny hands dipped into his pants, a light groan from her Knight tickling sensitive nerves in her neck. 

Hoping that was a good sign, Haley’s open palm caressed his semi-erect arousal over his underwear and nibbled her lip. “Do… you like it…?” she asked, nervous that her silly attempt wouldn’t be to his liking. 

Diarmuid nodded into her hair, weaving his fingers through the long, silky locks. “You… can remove them if you desire.” When she shifted back to gaze upon him with confusion, a slight smirk quirked in the corner of his mouth. “My pants, I mean.” 

“Oh!” Haley stifled her laugh, shaking her head at the stupidity that must have masked her features. Her tongue trailed her lip at the thought of him completely naked. The furthest she’d glimpsed him before was in his underwear, but now…

The woman's throat bobbed as she glanced at the button on his pants, remembering her struggle to remove them the last time. Carefully, she removed her hand from his groin and pulled at the corner, unhooking the troublesome thing and then unzipping him. All the while, Diarmuid continued to handle her body with ease, locating each brittle spot and assuring her breathing was labored at the sensations he delivered with his mouth and hands.

When his pants were coupled with his underwear, they were kicked off the side of the bed to find the floor; she noticed her Knight was plenty good at exhibiting his control, as he was still only partially erect. Haley wedged her arms underneath his build, finding his length and taking a stiff hold. He was still so cool to the touch, but soft in her hand. She shifted, the angle a little off and retracted herself from him when she saw him wince. “S-Sorry…! The angle it’s just… different from when you showed me before.” 

Diarmuid (still hovering over her) took her little hand in his with a light chuckle. “It’s alright,” he said, drawing up her hand and placing it back upon him. He guided her touch, all the while moving his position over her from the bed to just a bit higher so her arms were not at full reach. Meanwhile, he adjusted her to the rhythm he liked before he released his grip. 

Nodding into his pectorals, Haley replicated what he’d shown her, increasing her strokes, and finding her own balance. She’d shifted and alternated to be consistent with the movement of his hip—to the light sounds of pleasure humming through his lips.

Not wanting to be the only one enjoying pleasantries, Diarmuid continued where he’d paused earlier. Keeping himself propped up by his right hand, his left was free to skim down her leg, adoring the velvety skin and finding his way to her excitement in between. A quick touch revealed dampness seeping through the ladywear that kept her from joining him in nudity. To excite her this much… for  _ him  _ to be so enraptured by her...

His lips caught hers, as she curiously closed her legs around his, her fumbling hands driving his wicked desperation for her into overdrive. If not for wanting to take his time to ensure she was comfortable, he’d have taken her the moment her body silently asked for attention. 

Instead, he pressed the pads of his deft fingers to her center over her underwear, fighting the urge to redirect her inconsistent (but lovely despite it all) ministrations back to her sides. Reluctantly, he retreated from their languorous kiss. “Do I have permission to pleasure you here?” he asked, feeling her hesitation in her slowed fondling of him; the unsurety mingling in her features had him clarifying, “No no, not with that. Just my hands, my mouth...” he moved to her neck and planted a kiss there. “If that’s too much—”

Haley gently released his member, but not before running her index finger underneath it all the way to the tip, his quiver eliciting a quirk of her lip. She turned and nibbled his ear.

It wasn't that he was too aggressive or anything of the like: it was that her heart stammered. The desire in her body grew with each touch he made. She wanted him. More than anything, she wanted to share herself with him entirely. “It’s not too much…  _ none _ of this is, but… I… actually want…” her eyes drifted downward to the impressive stiffness below, and his golden hue followed her line of sight.

Diarmuid inched himself above her to gander at her face, affirming he was hearing her correctly, to check if any doubt lingered in the question she was about to ask. “Are you sure? Seconds ago, you seemed…” he trailed off, worrying that the way in which he spoke would offend her, but she simply smoothed her palms on his skin.

“I… was just thinking… this is all, still so new to me, but…” She fiddled with the chain of the necklace dangling over her, finding the silver gleaming tag at the end. “Diarmuid… I… want to know what it’s like… to feel you inside of me…”

Studying the bright red spreading across her features, the Knight lowered his forehead to hers. “You are certain, then…?” he whispered, rubbing the edge of his index finger into the cleft of her folds. If only he could express how dignified he felt in knowing she desired him in such a way… his frigid heart cheered from pure elation. 

His Lady trusted him. Not for just his hospitality or chivalry (because he for sure as hell treated Haley like shit when they had first met) but because even then, she knew who he was before curses and bitterness had overtaken him, and she helped him find himself once again. She saw him,  _ really _ saw him, for his mind, heart and  _ soul _ . 

His woman nodded, carding her fingers through his silky hair as she instinctively rubbed against him. “I am… I don’t think I can trust anyone else in the world but you with this…” If his heart still beat, Diarmuid knew it would have stopped upon hearing her simple, yet profound, little statement. He knew—from the personal history she had shyly revealed—that her virtue was a step in a level of intimacy she had waited years to share, haunted as she was by the ghosts—and living demons—from her past. To be offered such a special, treasured part of her… it was more than a gift, more than an honor… more than a blessing. He briefly closed his eyes, humbled beyond measure.

And although she gave her permission to take her, even if her spot was glazed with pure arousal—Diarmuid wanted to wholly confirm her body was ready.

With ease, he coaxed the panties from her, only drifting away from her to lift them over her bent thighs and discard them to the side. For a second, his eyes roved, taking in her naked form once more; loving each curve, as she had worshipped his own—relishing how beautiful she was, before he lowered himself to her thighs and kissed them. 

“Diar…?” Haley’s voice was a lustful whisper, but he did not stop pecking smooches all the way to her pubic triangle. He focused his attention on her lower lips, spreading them with the tip of his tongue. He settled directly on the bundle of nerves, her muffled moan making him smile. Skillfully he pleasured her sweet spot, while his index finger coated itself in her excitement, testing the waters. 

“Mmm…that’s not...” the woman fidgeted. It wasn’t that she didn’t entertain the idea of him touching and fingering her—it was that she was desperate for... well, honestly it was awkward to say it. Diarmuid halted his touch the moment she voiced concern, which was the last thing she wanted to happen. “I meant... you’re… you’re not going to put in your… you know?”

Her Knight lifted his face and smiled; a beautiful expression, that sent her heart racing. 

“Hold out a little while longer,” he rasped in between sweet kisses at the apex of her thighs. He grazed her entrance with his finger, debating, calculating, before slipping it in ever so slightly. When he met resistance, he stopped. “You’re not yet wet enough.” he answered her questioning glance. “I fear it won’t be pleasurable if I… if I take you as you are now.” 

It was difficult to withhold himself. Oh, he wanted to have her begging, whispering his name. Ready—willing and panting—beneath him. Clinging to him as he penetrated her over and over, with the love he truly did wish to convey. But he'd wait—he had to. She was _ precious _ , and should be handled with care, though she had never been. She had already been through so much and deserved this moment to be as perfect as he could make it for her. 

After all, his Lady had shielded him from his own horrors and gifted him peace. He would take his time, make sure she was ready, and joyful. He wanted her to feel  _ good _ , and to look back on her offering herself to  _ him _ —to her first time—and rejoice. 

"How, how do we… fix that?" Haley felt her face burn, she had thought she was ready but if he believed her not to be then she'd follow his direction. He  _ was  _ more adept in the adventures of… (dare she think it)  _ sex _ , and she wanted nothing more than for them to mold into each other. 

"I'll attend to you here…" Diarmuid delighted in his Lady’s bashful squeak when he applied pressure to the swollen node, deftly swirling and coaxing her into a higher sense of merriment. “And here…” he roused, claiming her thrumming pulse beneath her ear with the base of his mouth, nurturing it with a fervor he knew she loved. 

Stars danced in the telekentic’s line of vision... whether from ecstasy or from the headboard she accidentally nudged her noggin on, she didn’t have a clue. But the cackle of laughter shared between the two of them served to edge her on more—made her  _ want _ more. If she and her Knight could share such undiluted laughter in such vulnerable moments like these, then no matter how new or callow she may be: it didn't matter.

Only their oneness did. 

Haley settled from her giggling fit just moments after her partner did, raising his lips to meet hers in a slow, tentative kiss before pulling away. “Please, I can’t wait anymore,” she pleaded ardently. “I’ve waited years for a moment as beautiful as this with someone as captivating as you.” She nipped at his lip, keeping her gaze focused on his lustrous orbs that dilated with desire and attachment, as no other had ever given her. She would always,  _ always _ treasure that look.

Diarmuid leashed his urges and lowered his face onto the curvy spot of her neck. He swam in the joy of her heat clamping on to him, the pulsing life against his cheek. Despite her obvious willingness, he needed to hear it once more, needed her to clarify her  _ need _ for him inside her, though he believed they could take more time with foreplay. “Tell me once more—I want you to be entirely sure, Lady Haley.” 

He licked the delicate vein to right underneath her ear, lining up his stiffness to tease her slick entrance, withholding a shudder as her wetness coated the tip of his cock…shredding the very short leash he’d placed upon himself.

Turning so that their noses were touching, the infamous stray lock tickling her upper lip, Haley pressed her eyes shut and nodded.

She was nervous. Scared, even, of what it was going to feel like: of what she held back from doing for so long, the idea of intimacy now almost a joke to her. "I’m… a little scared…" 

She had felt a deep apprehension until she met him in person; until she had seen the soul that was her Knight; until she’d fought with him, and for him; had taken on countless strife for his soul’s redemption and safety, while he offered her the same. She’d seen how willing he was to throw himself into countless tortures to ensure  _ her  _ safety. 

_ He’ll take his time with me, just like he has this entire night. _ With that thought in mind she would lose herself in their togetherness—in finding the answers to what this love meant to her… to  _ him _ .

Diarmuid turned his head side-to-side with a gentle understanding. "Do not be," he cupped her face in his hands and whispered, a hair's breadth away, "I will take utmost care that you relish our joining, as I only wish to please you.” 

Her heart skipped a tantalizing beat. Haley would give him _everything_ … and not look back. Tonight. Before the tournament laid either of them to rest, before anyone else could step in the way of their unity, before they would go their separate ways (unless there was some incredible way to bring him back to the world of the living with her).

“Make  _ love _ to me, Diarmuid.”

Her voice—that ragged, impenetrable vow—beckoned to his heart.

_ Love. _

It took all the Gods to restrain his lust to drive himself inside her right then. The adulation and eagerness in her tone, the glistening in her dazzling eyes, almost drained his carefulness and bordered turning him to putty. 

Yes, he would give her his love.

Diarmuid’s heart danced in bliss. It had been so long, so  _ agonizingly  _ long since he'd been blessed with this kind of powerful emotion. No, not since that bit of life he'd had with the Loathly Lady, not since the King of Knights had smiled upon him in the midst of war with that indomitable spirit. In his true life, he’d lost that love; in his second existence, his love was not returned. Though here—somehow—in this bleak place devoid of conviction and honor, he’d found it.

“Give me  _ everything  _ that you are…  _ please _ ...” she whispered against his lips. 

_ E verything  _ _that I am_ … hearing his Lady’s heartfelt plea snapped the final threads of his restraint. Stifling her begging with a kiss, Diarmuid twined her fingers with his, settling their joined hands over her head. All the worlds narrowed down to this one moment—this one miraculous, beautiful, amazing woman who had unexpectedly become both his savior and his passion. 

Hesitation finally cast aside, he gently entered her, slowly stretching her inner walls until his entire thick length rested inside, rocking his hips to ease the sure sting of his intimate intrusion. Haley clutched at his back with a wince, gasping and whining a little as her nails raked into his skin; he captured her tiny cries of distress with his lips. 

He paused, waiting for her to adjust to his girth, the ragged rise and fall of her much smaller chest denoting the angst she was doubtless experiencing. Sparing a sideways glance at their connection, a string of red caught his eye before he fixed his attention on the tightness that clamped down on him. “Easy…you’re alright,” he lightly spoke into her ear, nibbling at the lobe and nudging his temple to hers. “Relax, my Lady… your body is tense.” 

Haley squeezed the hand desperately locked in his, taking in a deep breath. Even though Diarmuid was  benevolent and gradual as he’d slowly sunk into her, the pinch from his initial drive and the fullness of expanding to fit him was all too new, and unfamiliar. It didn’t help that she’d accidentally braced herself after she’d offered her consent.  _ Stupid defense mechanisms of my stupid anxiety, _ she grumbled to herself. 

“Breathe, sweetheart.” She listened to his nurturing rasp, as he returned the reassuring clasp, letting loose the air she tucked in her burning lungs in a light heave. 

The ache in her loins slowly blew out like an extinguished candle, as she nestled her temple at the front of his chest, just above her Knight’s clavicle. She was so…  _ full.  _ She couldn't think what to make of it. A pang yet lingered, but... “C-Can… you try moving…?” she braved the question, since the spasming had died down. She didn’t bother asking him to be slow, or gentle, knowing full well he’d take extra caution and care.

Diarmuid—still balancing himself on one hand—kissed the top of her frazzled locks and began to move. He leisurely rocked his hips, keeping his movements shallow and soft. “How does this feel?” he asked, his eyelids fluttering to a close at the extraordinary feel  of her tight heat clenching around his hardness… every slow, involuntary constriction sending his nervous system into rapturous overdrive. 

If only she knew how wonderful she made him feel… not just in body, but in  _ spirit.  _

"It… feels a little weird…" Haley awkwardly giggled, letting go of his hand and draping her slender arms around his taut back. She found herself tracing the indents there, distracting herself from the strange sensations building down below. 

Diarmuid cocked his head with a chuckle and light smile. "It’s weird?" 

"Mhmm…" she nodded; he leaned in close, his lips barely grazing hers. “B-But… I think I’m… starting to like it.” At least, that’s what she assumed the building pressure felt like, as the tingling spread through her in waves. 

Her beloved soul slanted his mouth to hers, resurrecting his motion… which, though slow, helped regulate the throbbing down below. Haley continued to touch and explore the body above hers, making an effort to control her breathing as she subtly rocked herself to match his actions. She began to lose herself to the tanginess of his mouth, to the soreness that now shaped to be… oddly pleasant.

Her internal embrace slacking, her labored but controlled breathing: all were good signs that pointed in the direction to boost his efforts and draw out her pleasure—but no, the Irish Legend would always lean towards caution— “Is it alright… to move faster?”

“Yeah, more, give me…  _ more _ ...”

The words pushed him over the edge he’d been balancing on. Diarmuid increased his motility, his jerks strengthening as they picked up in intensity. Her body barely protested, loosening with each plunge. The quiet moans of their entwined mouths drove his thrusts deeper, harder. 

_ Fuck, this is—! _ Haley couldn't finish the thought as he amped up the pace. The burning and tingling sensation amplified—it was a mixture of pain and pleasure she had yet to understand, but… it was so fulfilling; every second he moved, every touch he made, represented nothing but love and intimacy. 

More, she wanted more, she’d told him. Though there had been a slight pause, Diarmuid had delivered. Whatever he was withholding was released in a surge of fervor. He was buried inside her, yet her core (while on fire from his feverish rutting) wasn't satisfied. She twined her legs around his waist, clumsily urging him deeper still, as she dragged her nails down his back. His moans delivered rich satisfaction in knowing he was having a great liking of this, too.

Feeling adventurous as the ache in her loins finally relented, Haley palmed his chest to push him lightly onto his side, using her weight to roll them over. Diarmuid looked up at her curiously as she settled herself on top of him, her legs straddling his waist. 

He gripped her slender torso, drawing circles on her warm skin. His woman looked at him, a silent query in her glacier-blue orbs. Perfectly reading the insecurity that lay there, he encouraged her, “Find your pace.” Diarmuid smiled indulgently as he watched her nibble her lower lip in a familiar, adorable tell. 

Haley briefly inhaled before bending over, her hair spilling luxuriantly as she settled her the flats of her hands to the center of Diarmuid’s chest, bracing herself and rolling her hips. Diarmuid’s digits pressed securely on her torso—but not painfully so—as he assisted her movement.

Hearing her uninhibited gasps and moans come to fruition as he guided her to find the right depth, angles, and rhythm to maximize her pleasure… Diarmuid thought the modulations of ecstasy tumbling from Haley’s parted mouth were quite as beautiful as the sight of her lithe body riding his. Every downstroke sent shivers of pure delight throughout his tensed body. He bucked his hips to match her now-steady cadence, desperate to draw out every last drop of pleasure from their joining.

He missed this. Not the act itself, no, but the emotions  _ and  _ bond he felt—at the feeling of her confidently lying flush against him; the way her hands traversed his body with conviction; how her sweet channel welcomed his ever-increasing thrusts. To say her love did not feel incredible would be insulting, and patently untrue. 

Perspiration built at her temples as her breathing became labored. Diarmuid slid his hands up her back and planted her to lie close across his breast bone. It was an effort to keep his own breathing steady underneath his gorgeous woman, rocking her body as she sought more from her heightening satisfaction. 

“Beautiful, you are beautiful,” he muttered between croons of delight, kissing her lips, her jaw, her throat. “Haley… you feel… incredible…” 

Haley halted. “You—” she settled her wonder on the sharp curve of his chin, the shine in his sweet, caramel eyes. “You said my name.” 

She didn’t know why, but hearing her name like a prayer on his steady lips— _ just _ her name… no properness to it, no lord-like calling to it… the affection with which said it—made her heart thunder in her chest, as if it wanted to burst and engulf him in its vulnerability. “You never… only call me by my name.” At first it was Master, then gave way to My lady, then Lady Haley; and now—just hearing  _ Haley _ … 

Diarmuid didn’t quite understand why she was so enamored by the simple utterance of her name… until he did. He’d lost all the centuries-old formality with which he had regarded her. The simple ‘Haley’ represented him finally tearing down the inculcated old belief that she was superior to him. He’d removed the title to leave her as an equal, and he loved how much that seemed to move her. 

Tears filled to the brim of her eyes. She steadied herself upright, an internal fire scorching her irises as she demanded, “Say it again.” 

Balancing her weight to shift her with him, the Knight fixed them into a sitting position. “Haley…” he softly repeated, appreciating the sound of it, as he returned her fiery gaze. 

The gratitude in her quivering lip and glossy eyes— he swore the sight of her made his still heart stammer. It was then she wrapped her legs around his torso to sink on top of him, ensuring his cock was lodged as deeply it could go, causing her to buck over his shoulder. 

His throat bobbed, as his hands found her plump little rear and shimmied her body up and down, propelling himself at the same time. “I can no longer hold myself back… you are too wonderful!” He lost his much-vaunted self control as everything he thought, every emotion he’d felt that night drove him into her, drilling her pleasure as her moans bounced off the walls.

“Yes… let me hear you… moan for me, my lady, my heart, my  _ Haley _ ,” his voice was a throaty, carnal rasp as he planted his mouth everywhere he could. His hands gave her bum a firm squeeze, his left letting go to cherish the bare thigh snugged around him. 

Haley dug her nails in the hard skin of his shoulders at the seductive sound of her name, devouring the intensity that filled between her legs. “Diar… oh my gosh…  _ Diarmuid _ !” 

She was lost to their passion, the pure ecstasy from every feverish thrust and touch, yet it still didn’t fulfill her. She wanted to touch him everywhere, just as he was touching her. She yearned to roam her hands over every scar of his past, to weave her fingers through the quirky locks that were coming undone. 

Her heart skipped so many wild beats as he returned her moans of ebullience. Fireworks cracked and boomed in her chest, the aftershocks travelling through her veins and core. Was… was this what love was like? Not just sex, but actual  _ love?  _

Haley couldn't comprehend it—she couldn’t believe she was fortuitous enough to experience it. All she knew was that it didn't matter he was a spirit given this temporary physical form, or that she was a living being, and their very  _ togetherness _ was temporary. This undeniable, astonishing feeling—she  _ knew  _ it would last for her entire existence. With Diarmuid, a man of the past; but now he was undeniably her present and future. 

Panting raggedly, Diarmuid tensed as his pulsating movement inside her became more drawn out, his strokes rapidly increasing in depth as his gratification reached breaking point. He refocused his concentration on his Lady, her fevered reactions and answering upward jerks satisfying his overarching need to see to her pleasure, first and foremost. His desperate nerves frayed with every clench and release from her previously untried inner muscles as they took everything he could give with enthusiasm and mutual lust. 

The impassioned look in her half-slitted eyes added to his growing tension; he battled against reaching his peak too soon, even as he knew the climax of their lovemaking drew closer with every euphoric second… Clinging tighter, she bit at his corded neck, her lips snuggling in the crease between sinew and bone. Her legs gripped harder to pull him closer, her beautiful mouth unabashedly begging for him to finish inside her—he almost lost the war he was waging then and there.

Diarmuid jolted upwards, yanking his lover down as close to him after a few wicked strokes until he finally found release.  Haley’s inner convulsions triggered his own, each delicious squeeze and shudder prolonging his apex. Relief as well as absolute rapture washed over the Irishman, as he knew he could not have staved off his powerful orgasm for much longer—such was the furious intensity of their coupling.  Their mouths fused as her body absorbed every last bit of the magical energy pumping into it. His own chest rose and fell from the pure and utter ecstasy, as he and his lady attempted to catch their breaths. 

He held her on top of him, desperate to keep her as close to him for as long as he could, reveling in her hammering heartbeat against him. She panted his name into his mouth, as he remained inside her. Silence spread between them, as they both steadied. Haley pulled back first, and he helped her lift off him, as she stumbled before lying flat against the bed.

The telekinetic was spent. There was a… satisfying pulsing between her legs, and she didn’t mind it at all. She felt proud and fortunate she’d waited this long to open herself to this sort of euphoria. Her cheeks rose in color at the thought, as she took in her beloved Knight. 

Diarmuid glanced over the brilliance coloring her pretty little face, his heart softening as he took in the utterly contented smile that made her entire countenance glow with bliss. She was happy, as was he… The damn happiest he’d ever been. A crack in his chest—one that had caught him unaware—was sealed by their lovemaking. He laid her on her side and took her wrist to his lips while he remained on his knees. 

Dabbing his index finger over the dimple that found itself on her cheek, Diarmuid asked quietly, “Did it hurt…?”

Haley shook her with a scoffing chuckle. There was nothing in that moment that hurt, physically or emotionally. Cupping his cheeks in her palms she replied, “No, not all. It… was extraordinary the entire time. Just like you.” 

Diarmuid merely nodded, debating if… if he was ready to disclose the truth he held in his heart. Never had he felt so content, even with the future still so uncertain. But—knowing how little occasions they had, and all they’d been through—he reconciled there would be no better time than now. She deserved to know.

“Haley,” he started somberly, purposefully leaving out the honorifics to maintain the gleam that overtook her. He respired deeply, tears pricking his eyes much to his surprise. “I know our time is… limited, and each moment we share just might be our last.” He kissed the clammy palm of her hand, as her own eyes glistened with moisture. “But I wish to give you my heart for as long as fate allows us to be together… For I love you, with my entire body, heart, and soul.” 

Haley cupped his cheek in her right hand, brushing away the stray tears with her thumb. She knew they were born of happiness, but she hated to see them, nonetheless. Never did she want him to harbor any disquiet for experiencing love, and trusting someone with his loyalty.

Removing her hand from his cheek, she placed a delicate, reassuring palm over his as his fingers circled her wrist. She met his golden hues. “I gladly take it, Diarmuid, and I promise you, I will do your love no harm. I will take such care of it.” she tenderly vowed, pulling him down so his head rested beneath her chin. 

The finest tremble shivered through his borrowed body as her fervent words burrowed into his consciousness, the satiation from their physical coupling blending with the euphoria he felt on a metaphysical level. Centuries of having his love abused and rejected swiftly eroded away as the Knight realized that here—at last— was a woman who knew him, and loved him for everything he was… for everything he had been, and for everything he  _ could  _ be, given a chance to flourish under her gentle, all-encompassing support and pure love. 

Wrapping his arm around her slender form, he finally replied, “I trust you will… I trust you with my love and my soul, my Haley… come what may.”

**Author's Note:**

> I want to personally thank my beta (Valancyjane74 on Ao3) for helping me evolve this scene and weed out the nonsense, fix some dialogue, enhance some paragraphs with better details and light. Her writing is a Godsend, give her work a shot!
> 
> A smut scene that is meant to be more emotionally impactful than smutty but still somehow was delivered as such. I am sooo ahh, gloriously in love with this scene. Diarmuid and Haley are best couple, sorry, Ive already decided. XD
> 
> But yes, Ive revisited his past loves, acknowledged the obvious love he had for Arturia. Personally, I love them also as a couple, but it never really seemed as though she felt the same way. She was quite busy with her ideals and goal for the grail to really venture into having, "feelings" even though there was some attachment. It just seemed like it was more platonic than anything.
> 
> Regardless, I hope that its not too forward and that this scene gives off what I was expecting of it for you readers. It took 56 damn chapters of their building relationship through the trials of the Arena to blossom into the love they both feel for the other. It's meant to be a big, special moment for both of them in their own, delicate, separate ways. Plus, having Diarmuid guide Haley through the experience and her trusting him to do so, well, it means a lot I think to both given their history.
> 
> Anyway, im babbling. Please tell me what you think of this scene and more!


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